


The Passion Of The Night

by RuddyKitty



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24784945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuddyKitty/pseuds/RuddyKitty
Summary: Somehow, the two had met, and become acquainted. Somehow that acquaintanceship became friendship, then flourished into flirting. There had been kisses, nuzzling, cuddling and public displays of affection, although nothing more. Jaskier was too teasing, Geralt thought, and whenever the subject was brought up of more intimacy, Jaskier always gave an excuse.And it drove Geralt absolutely mad.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 90





	The Passion Of The Night

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing to say except enjoy

It had been a long journey between the two of them. The witcher and the bard knew each other well enough by then, and Jaskier and Geralt were regularly flirting with one another. Geralt, with his dry humor and clever wit and Jaskier with his sassy wit and quick comebacks made the two quite the pair indeed.

They seemed to make a nice contrast. The witcher was just a bit shorter in height but buffed out with coiled muscles through years of specialized training, gruffer and with a deep growl in his voice like rich black coffee and no one dared to mock him except those foolish enough to want to take their lives into his hands to end it. A stone cold face and amber golden eyes set into a very chiseled face, stark white hair that was shoulder length, black leather armor studded with silver and the rest of his outfit black leather as well, fitted with two swords, one silver and the other steel, crafted for him alone. Jaskier on the other hand was slimmer, although not lacking in strength and muscle, yet jolly, perkier and eager to make conversation with just about anyone who would listen. He had short chestnut hair that was billowy and fluffy with bright cornflower blue eyes against a smiling slightly square face with ever changing doublets and trousers to match, his boots always stylish although great for travel as well. He carried with him a very decorative lute which played marvelously, singing merry tunes with him as he went. It was a wonder that the two kept perfect company.  
  
Somehow, the two had met, and become acquainted. Somehow that acquaintanceship became friendship, then flourished into flirting. There had been kisses, nuzzling, cuddling and public displays of affection, although nothing more. Jaskier was too teasing, Geralt thought, and whenever the subject was brought up of more intimacy, Jaskier always gave an excuse.   
  
And it drove Geralt absolutely mad.   
  
Tonight had been no different. There had been another slight argument over intimacy, and Jaskier made another excuse. Although, to be fair, it _was_ rather chilly out. The autumn air was getting nippy and it was another day to the nearest town. So yet another night of roughing it outside.   
  
They settled down for the night, lying their bedrolls next to each other. Jaskier laid down on his right arm, facing away from Geralt, the witcher spooning in behind Jaskier and covering the both of them with furs to try and keep them both warm for the night by the campfire.   
  
Except, Jaskier had actually been planning something, that conniving bastard.   
  
Geralt was just halfway into falling asleep, when Jaskier pretended to stretch a bit lazily and protruded his ass out on purpose, rubbing it against Geralt’s crotch.   
  
“Hnn?” Geralt hummed out, slightly in surprise, the other half in sleepiness. It felt… good. The witcher couldn’t help but find his eyes split apart for a moment, half lidded and staring into the back of Jaskier’s head. “Jas?” He asked in a gravelly whisper, waiting a tentative few moments before he ever so hesitantly pressed his crotch back against the bard’s ass.   
  
“Mmm…” A reserved, guiltless sounding hum from sleep came from Jaskier, and he pressed back against the witcher, this time rotating his hips a bit. It seemed completely innocent, however Jaskier was wide awake and very much aware of what he was doing, and it was all he could do to keep a wide smirk from his face.   
  
“Nnngk--!” Geralt choked out, his throat suddenly feeling dry. He knew that Jaskier didn’t want this. He couldn’t take advantage of the man. He needed to push away… or at least wake the bard up. He could feel a heat start to gather in his abdomen, and his massive meat was starting to stir to life. “Jask--” He started, using his free left arm on his hip to try and wake Jaskier up, however Jaskier pulled it down and pinned it against his own hairy chest, holding the witcher’s hand there amongst the curls and entwining fingers.   
  
The witcher made a choked balking sound. His left arm was pinned against Jaskier’s chest, fingers interlaced with the bard’s and his other arm was under his own white locks. He very carefully shifted, and in doing so, Jaskier pretend-sleep shifted again, rubbing his ass up and down on Geralt’s growing cock.   
  
Fighting back a curse through his clenched teeth, Geralt felt his trousers get awfully cramped. “Jaskier. ...Jaskier!” His words were starting to get more and more desperate. They started as a whisper, hushed as he tried not to alert any monsters that may be in the vicinity, but Jaskier didn’t stir. Then his voice was a shouted low voice, and the bard responded by mumbling something in his slumber and pressed his ass back further into Geralt’s girth.   
  
A deep growl. Enough. “JASKIER!!” Geralt exclaimed in annoyance.   
  
An inner sigh. Well maybe it was time to stop playing with the man. Jaskier pretended to be startled and slid up onto an elbow, maintaining a sleepy look, being the best damned actor ever. “Wha? Whass goin’ on?” He blurted out groggily, although his own boner said otherwise.   
  
“Look what you’ve been doing to me in your sleep!!!” Geralt belted out, pulling back the furs to expose his rock hard length pulsating inside of his black leather trousers. Jaskier adjusted himself, sitting up and feigning confusion. Against the fire, even though it wasn’t needed due to his mutant eyes, the witcher noticed the bard’s own bulging length in his blue trousers, and then inhaled deeply through his nostrils, his eyebrows knitted in frustration. “You’ve been fucking with me.”   
  
That was when Jaskier finally spread a grin across his face and looked up at those golden amber eyes. “More like I want _you_ to be fucking _me_ .”   
  
Geralt’s eyes could not have grown wider. The witcher was not a man of many words as it was, however at the moment he was at a loss for them. After a few moments, he sat up and simply plunged forward and deeply kissed Jaskier, the bard doing the same and very happy to oblige. Their tongues tangled with one another, Jaskier gripping Geralt’s waist with a strength as if he would bruise the man, with the witcher returning the favor.   
  
Once they both decided they _needed_ air, Geralt pulled away, panting. “I don’t understand. Just earlier you said no. Why now?”   
  
“I needed it on my own terms,” Jaskier replied simply. “And I wanted to know I could trust you wouldn’t…” here Jaskier paused and looked down and away, anguish and possible rejection filling his cornflower blue eyes “...take it.”   
  
“Jas…” Geralt replied, his rugged voice ever so delicate, picking up the bard’s face by the chin and staring into his worried soul. “I would never do that. No means no.”   
  
The bard looked incredibly relieved, a smile slowly beaming across his lips, the witcher feeling a small smile pick at the corners of his mouth as well.   
  
“So… can we?” Jaskier asked sheepishly, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.   
  
The grin on Geralt’s face grew into a smirk. “Is that how you ask?”   
  
Letting out a chuckle, Jaskier shook his head. “Uh, _no_ , I say something like, ‘Geralt, will you pretty please fuck my brains out?’”   
  
“That’s better,” Geralt replied matter-of-factly, moving to pin Jaskier down to his bedroll on his back and making out with him desperately.   
  
Geralt straddled the bard’s hips, their tongues cascading into each other, Jaskier hooking both legs around Geralt’s hips and forcing his pelvis upward. This caused friction between their clothed cocks, sending electricity to shoot through them and a fire to heat up every part of their bodies. Jaskier grabbed on to Geralt’s shoulders, and the witcher grunted as he pulled away from the bard’s mouth, licking and nipping against the man’s jawline.   
  
“Gods, Geralt,” Jaskier panted out when the witcher unbuttoned his doublet, then his hand found a nipple under his chemise, giving it a sensitive twist. He bunched the material under his armpits, finding the free nipple and stroking it with the broad of his tongue. It caused a flush to appear on Jaskier’s face and he tossed his head back, his Adam’s apple bouncing deliciously with a needy whine. Then came the witcher’s fang into Jaskier’s pert bud, digging in just enough to cause a delicious wail to tear from the back of the bard’s throat. So much for being quiet.   
  
The chill of the night air was no longer a concern, the heat of their bodies more than enough to satiate the two of them as Jaskier raked his fingers through Geralt’s white locks. Thrusting his crotch upwards, the witcher worked on unbuttoning the bard’s trousers while he kissed him deeply, the two of them incredibly starved for each other.

“Take them off,” Geralt instructed in a breathless huff, removing himself momentarily. While Jaskier did as he was told and removed his trousers, exposing himself to the night air and showing off his rock hard cock and exquisite ass, Geralt quickly returned from his bags with a bottle of oil and poured some of the contents onto his hand.

“You’re so beautiful,” The witcher admitted, admiring Jaskier and watching the bard’s already flushed face deepen into a noticeable cherry red. It was too cute, the way his bard got embarrassed as he looked over his body.  
  
“Aha… Not as beautiful as you though, dear wolf,” Jaskier managed to keep his wits about him, his cock twitching slightly, a tiny drip of precome dribbling from the slit and onto his abdomen. If Geralt had been physically able to blush, he would have.   
  
Without another word, the witcher took his calloused middle finger and rubbed it at Jaskier’s entrance, causing the bard to shiver and mewl. Geralt leaned over Jaskier, his other arm folded and keeping his balance by the bard’s head. “Do you want this, little lark?”   
  
“Without a doubt,” Jaskier replied breathlessly, pushing down on Geralt’s finger and letting out a whimpered moan. “More than you could possibly know.”   
  
“Good,” Geralt nodded, giving Jaskier a quick kiss, he traced his middle finger around the tight ring of muscle a few times to make sure it was extra slick with oil before he gently breached the entrance to the first knuckle.   
  
“Guhh!” Jaskier cried out, tossing his head back onto the bedroll, exposing his hearty throat for Geralt, who couldn’t keep from nibbling at the flesh there. The way Jaskier’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he let out such cries was delectable and the witcher’s dick was practically _begging_ to be freed from the confines of his black leather trousers. He kept having to tell himself _not yet_ and to be patient.   
  
Writhing his digit around, just ever so slightly, Geralt searched Jaskier’s face for any pain. “If you need to stop, just tell me, and we’ll stop. Understand?” The witcher stated firmly. He wanted to make sure that was very clear, and although Jaskier was lost in the passion, he was able to stop and nod, swallow and say “I-I understand, I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”   
  
“Good little lark,” Geralt pressed another kiss to Jaskier’s lips, this time turning it into several kisses and pushing his finger in more, being rewarded with the bard gasping and kissing the witcher back in pure lust. Their tongues twisted together and Geralt managed to push his finger in all the way, swirling his finger around and pressing it in and out, finger fucking the man and stretching him.   
  
“ _Gods_ Geralt,” Jaskier panted out. He’d never had anything in his ass before, and it felt pretty good. But it wasn’t enough.   
  
“Are you ready for more?” Geralt asked in a husky voice, and was glad to see the bard nod confidently.   
  
With a hum of confirmation, the witcher swiftly slicked in his ring finger, watching as Jaskier cried out a long keen while he stretched out the bard. He would pull his fingers out to the very first knuckle, then plunge them back in, causing Jaskier to wail beautifully. He’d always had such a gorgeous singing voice, not that the witcher liked admitting it, however this was a different kind of singing that was special and specific and just for him. It was wonderful watching, _feeling_ Jaskier writhe beneath him, how he pushed back and fucked himself on Geralt’s digits. The witcher was scissoring his fingers, thrusting and twisting and causing more precome to leak from the bard’s meaty dick. All the while Geralt was grinding his clothed cock against Jaskier’s, causing much needed friction between the men and giving out grunts and moans of his own that were deep guttural growls in the back of his throat.

And soon enough, Geralt added his index finger to the bard’s ass, and Jasker thought he was going to lose it. It was all Jaskier could do to keep a coherent thought, especially while Geralt licked his broad tongue along his jawline and nipped against his ear lobe. Sweat was forming on his brow as his abdomen twitched visibly, but then Geralt adjusted his fingers and thrusted upwards, jabbing into a bundle of nerves.

“AHH!” Jaskier hollered out, a shiver running down his spine as lava pooled in his belly. The witcher captured his lips, their tongues wrestled for dominance and he jammed his fingers into that spot again, and again, a third time, and the fourth time Jaskier detached from the witcher’s mouth and his entire body went ridgid, his cock twitching against Geralt’s clothed crotch and he came, a flurry of creamy white globs shooting out onto his abdomen and stomach. His moan was silent, his vision blacked out, and when he came back to the real world he went limp against the bedroll, desperately gasping for air.  
  
“Such a pretty little lark,” Geralt whispered with a lust filled voice, pressing his lips against Jaskier’s forehead. “You sing so beautifully little lark.” He subtly removed his fingers from Jaskier’s ass, an erotic squelching sound making the bard let out a drawn out mewl. Geralt moved off of Jaskier onto his own bedroll and cupped his clean hand against one of the bard’s cheeks, lifting his head to look at him in the light of the campfire. “Do you want to keep going?”   
  
“Y… Y-Yes,” Jaskier panted out with a nod, gulping down more air, moving up onto an elbow, his cock stirring back to life. His bangs were stuck to his forehead with sweat and as a human he clearly didn’t have the stamina of a witcher. “I do.”   
  
“What is it that you want?” Geralt asked, coaxing the bard to answer. He was patient, although the raging hard on in his trousers told a different story.   
  
“You,” Jaskier answered without hesitation, eliciting a smile from Geralt. Jaskier sat up, some of the come on his stomach and abdomen dripping down and into his pubic hair, although he paid it no mind. “I want _you_ to _fuck_ me, white wolf,” the bard insisted with a nod. It wasn’t sexy in the way he said it, but it made Geralt’s cock twinge in excitement. He inched over to the witcher, Jaskier’s dick hardening. “ _Fuck_ me, Geralt.”   
  
Well that was all the permission he needed. Geralt sat back and worked on unbuttoning his trousers and pushed them down just enough to expose his cock, standing up proudly and he hissed through his teeth as it hit the chilly night air. He poured more oil into his palm, slicking himself up nicely and motioned for Jaskier to come over. “Come here.”   
  
Jaskier did as he was told, and the witcher positioned him to straddle his lap, both hands on Geralt’s shoulders. Geralt slicked up Jaskier’s hole again, which caused the bard to shudder against the man with audible moaning puffs of air escaping his lips, his chest visibly heaving.   
  
“Now,” Geralt instructed, one hand on Jaskier’s hip, the other hand that was slicked up with oil on his cock and pressing the tip to Jaskier’s oily stretched ring of muscle, “Slowly lower yourself onto me.”   
  
With a gulp, the bard followed his lover’s instructions, gasping loudly as he felt Geralt’s fat meat fill him. He was only half way down when he stopped, his own dick hardening beyond belief and he choked out Geralt’s name, resting his forehead against the crook of the witcher’s neck and shoulder. He took in a few deep ragged breaths, held in a big one, then continued, pushing himself down and fluttered his eyes closed, tossing back his head, the witcher watching in awe as his pretty little lark held his mouth open in a silent groan while the air escaped his lungs. He was finally full, down to Geralt’s hilt, and he was quivering.   
  
“I…” Jaskier confided breathlessly, Geralt distressed for a moment and thought they should stop. Maybe it was too much? He placed both hands on Jaskier’s shoulders, about to suggest they stop, however the concern disappeared across his face when Jaskier spoke up. “I feel so… _full_ … and it’s so… _good_ …”   
  
Geralt felt the tightness of upset melt away in his chest, and he had to admit, the slick heat of Jaskier’s ass was _fantastic_ . He was extremely tight, a virgin there and so very _cute_ and all _his_ . He couldn’t believe it. “You’re okay?” He just had to make sure.   
  
“ _Very_ okay,” Jaskier confirmed, even though it was a little uncomfortable, he wasn’t going to worry his white wolf about that. He wanted this, damn it, and he waited a really long time for it to make sure he was ready for it, and now he was ready. He was GOING to do this.

“Good,” Geralt confirmed with a nod, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s lips tenderly. “I don’t want to hurt you. Let me know when to move.” He wanted to make sure Jaskier became used to the feeling before he started moving. Perish the thought of harming his bard. His strong oiled hand rested against Jaskier’s hip, the other cradled the bard’s cheek lovingly.  
  
“I’m okay,” Jaskier cooed, his eyes fluttering shut, rubbing his cheek into the touch, so fragile and mild for a witcher. It was clear that Geralt was doing his best not to hurt him and he really cared about him and how he felt. It made the bard’s heart melt. “I’m ready.”   
  
“Alright.” Another nod, another kiss, and Geralt moved his hand from Jaskier’s cheek to his other hip and guided his ass up, ever so slowly, until just the very crown of his penis was popping out, then slammed him back down.   
  
Both of them let out sounds of pleasure. And Geralt guided Jaskier up again, slowly, then down again. The pace was slow at first, making sure that the bard understood how to do it, but he was a quick learner. Soon enough Jaskier was doing well enough and the pace quickened, and both Geralt and Jaskier were rolling their hips into the fucking, and the pace picked up.   
  
Their mouths crashed together again, their music muffled desperately against each other. Jaskier ran his fingers through the witcher’s white hair and tugged the locks there in need. Geralt moved one hand to the small of Jaskier’s back, using the other slicked up hand to pump the bard’s cock in tune to their thrusts, finding it sputtering out more precome in no time.   
  
“Geralt,” Jaskier sobbed out, the bard’s fingers twinging as his hands moved against the witcher’s shoulders, gripping there desperately. Geralt adjusted himself and slammed up into Jaskier’s prostate, eliciting a particularly powerful gutterul groan from the bard.   
  
“Mmm…” Geralt hummed, humping into Jaskier’s ass, licking the bard’s neck and continuing his ministrations, “Such gorgeous singing my beautiful little lark. Sing for me, sing!” Geralt tried again and again to reach that spot buried deep inside Jaskier’s ass, and thankfully it wasn’t very difficult to do.   
  
“BAAAHH!!” Jaskier howled out, his entire body spasming and his vision blurring out. He was so close. Every time Geralt hit that bundle of nerves deep inside of him, that sweet spot, he saw stars dance behind his eyelids, and it was the best feeling he’d ever experienced in his life. The fire was building in his abdomen again, and it was all he could do to pant out, “Geralt, I’m coming!”   
  
“Come for me, little lark,” The witcher commanded, absolutely pounding into that spot again and yet again mercilessly, “Come for your white wolf.”   
  
Crying out a garbled version of Geralt’s name, Jaskier erupted his seed for the second time that night. It shot out like a long ribbon, decorating their two bodies and landing mostly on Geralt’s oil slicked hand. But the best part was that when Jaskier came, his ass tightened as if a monster was constricting its grip on Geralt’s cock, and the witcher lost it, emptying himself into Jaskier’s ass with a loud howling moan of his own into Jaskier’s ear. There was quite a lot of it, the remnants of milky white sperm bubbling out of the hole and down into Geralt’s lap and sliding down his balls.   
  
Jaskier collapsed against Geralt, heaving ragged breaths and soaked in sweat. Geralt, naturally having more stamina and only a bit sweaty, was able to hold himself sitting up, keeping the bard in place and holding back a chuckle while he settled his breathing. It hadn’t been his first time claiming a man’s ass virginity, but of course he was over one hundred years old. However Jaskier was special. He loved Jaskier. _Loved_ him. That was something he didn’t think witchers could experience.   
  
It took more than a few moments for Jaskier to collect himself, but when he finally did, he looked up dreamily into Geralt’s amber golden eyes, a doofy, tired smile on his face. Geralt couldn’t help but let a hearty chuckle escape his throat.   
  
“You look tired,” Geralt murmured, nuzzling the bard lovingly, and Jaskier huffed a soft laugh as well.   
  
“Yeah, I am. I can’t go as long as you witchers,” Jaskier teased. “But… I love you, Geralt.”   
  
“I love you too, Jaskier. Very much.”


End file.
